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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822930">In the Kitchen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321'>janto321 (FaceofMer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bottom Mycroft Holmes, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg comes home rather dirty from playing football. Mycroft likes it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Kitchen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mycroft was standing in the kitchen when Greg came in the door. He could tell from his footsteps that he was tired, but that was to be expected from an afternoon of football. </p><p>“Hi, love,” said Greg, as he stepped into the kitchen, looking a bit worse for wear. Clearly he’d taken at least one tumble in the pitch. </p><p>“Have fun?” Asked Mycroft, reaching for a second cup. </p><p>“You could say that,” Greg stepped behind him and put his hands on Mycroft’s bare skin as his shirt rode up. He leaned in to kiss his throat. </p><p>“Gregory,” said Mycroft, even as he angled his neck to give him room. </p><p>“Yes?” Asked Greg, sliding his hands to the top of Mycroft’s thighs. </p><p>“You’re in dire need of a shower,” muttered Mycroft, bracing his hands on the counter. </p><p>“Yeah. And you like it.” Greg reached for his belt. Mycroft made no move to stop his roaming hands; after all, he’d been half-hard since he heard Greg come in. </p><p>“A bit,” he admitted, knowing the hitch of his voice betrayed him as Greg slid his hand into his trousers. </p><p>Greg rolled his hips. “I’m going to shag you right here, then we can take a shower together.”</p><p>Mycroft pushed back against him. “Please.”</p><p>Greg pushed his trousers down his thighs. “One of these days I’m going to get you in the garden and you’ll be the one with grass in your hair.”</p><p>“Perhaps.”</p><p>Anything else he might have said was lost when Greg slipped to his knees. He barely had time to brace himself before Greg was parting his cheeks and invading him with his tongue. </p><p>Mycroft moaned, helpless underneath the firm grip of Greg’s hands. Utterly filthy, utterly amazing. </p><p>“Fuck me,” groaned Mycroft. </p><p>Greg kissed his cheek and pushed two fingers into him. “You’re not giving orders here, sweetheart.”</p><p>Mycroft swore under his breath. He could feel Greg smirking as he stood, fingering him steadily and kissing the back of his neck. </p><p>The sound of Greg pushing down his own pants made Mycroft’s cock leap with interest. </p><p>Greg nuzzled his shoulder and gave him a slow stroke. “I know exactly what you want.”</p><p>Mycroft breathed in the smell of him, all grass and sweat and desire. It nearly made him whimper with need.</p><p>Greg let go of his cock and adjusted Mycroft’s position. He lined up slowly. Mycroft closed his eyes and tried to stay still, tingling with anticipation.</p><p>Finally, Greg pressed against him. Mycroft moaned as Greg sunk deeper into his willing body. Still moving slowly despite the quickness of his breath. It drove Mycroft wild, but all he could do was take what he was being given.</p><p>“You’re mine,” growled Greg, grasping his hips and starting to move a little quicker, but still slower than Mycroft would have liked.</p><p>“May I touch myself?” asked Mycroft, the question coming out breathy and needy.</p><p>Greg kissed his shoulder. “Yes,” he growled, punctuating the word with a hard thrust.</p><p>Mycroft dropped a hand to his cock, blushing as he started to stroke, intensely aware of Greg’s gaze.</p><p>“Gorgeous,” said Greg. “And all mine.”</p><p>Mycroft moaned softly, feeling how close he was already. Then Greg shifted his hips. Mycroft found himself pushed up onto his toes as Greg struck just the right spot.</p><p>Crying out, Mycroft spilled over his hand. Greg adjusted his grip on his hips and chased his own climax, groaning against Mycroft’s back as he came.</p><p>Panting, Mycroft opened his eyes and looked down. “There’s come on the cabinet.”</p><p>Greg laughed and carefully pulled out. “I’ll clean it up. You go run the shower.”</p><p>Mycroft turned in his arms and kissed him. “Deal.”</p><p>Greg kissed him back and swatted his bottom. “See you soon.”</p><p>“Don’t take too long.” Mycroft hitched up his trousers and headed for the en suite, knowing the day wasn’t over yet and already anticipating what was to come. Literally, if the stars aligned the way he hoped they would. And if not, well, then the rest of the day in Greg’s arms was always a little bit of heaven.</p>
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